Contact
by ryanforever
Summary: This is a missing scene ficlet - set between seasons 1 and 2. Just my thoughts on what Ryan may have been going through at that time.
1. Chapter 1

The first time it happened was three weeks after I'd left.

I placed the receiver back on the hook and lay in bed, thinking about who'd called but then hung up without saying a word.

The phone in Chino didn't have the luxury of caller id. But then I didn't need it. I knew who was on the other end of the line.

I lay there in the dark, sleep now a million miles away, and thought about the last time I'd spoken to her.

It hadn't gone well.

But then how could it?

She was hurting.

Hell, I was hurting!

But there was nothing else I could do. And so I'd told her to stop calling. It was only making things more difficult.

She didn't want me to be here.

I didn't want to be here.

But I didn't have any other choice.

I felt like this was my punishment for screwing up again.

'Screwing' – figures that was the word that came to mind, because that's exactly what had led me here.

Here, lying beside my 'best friend' who, although she's within arm's reach in the same bed, I'd never felt further from.

One stupid senseless fuck.

I was feeling disappointed and let down by the people around me so I'd happily accepted what Theresa had offered.

And it had led me back to Chino. To a life with little or no future, or at least a future that I didn't want. But I was out of options.

A few days later, it happened again.

She was never far from my thoughts and when the phone rang late at night, I always suspected that it was her.

But this time was different.

I could hear something other than empty air.

I kept the handset pressed firmly to my ear and listened intently.

I could hear the sound of waves.

I was almost certain that I knew exactly where she was sitting.

On the old lifeguard tower.

'Our place'.

We had a place.

But it didn't matter now.

It couldn't matter now.

And yet I still couldn't bring myself to hang up.

Hearing the waves in the distance made me feel closer to her, closer to everything that I was missing.

Every day I forced myself not to think about Newport, not to think about the Cohens, not to think about the pool house, not to think about her .…

It all hurt too much.

For once in my life, I'd had everything that I'd ever wanted.

A home with people that I cared about, and people who cared about me.

Marissa and I were finally on the same page.

And I'd destroyed it all in one night.

As the seconds ticked by, I wondered what was going through her mind.

She must hate me.

She should hate me.

And yet when Theresa's pregnancy had been confirmed, she had been prepared to stand by me, to try to work our way through it.

But it was better this way.

If she and I had stayed together, while I was trying to support my pregnant 'friend', then she would have been subjected to all sorts of ridicule from the 'polite' Newport society.

And I could just imagine what a field day Julie and Caleb would have had.

Didn't she realize that I was doing this for her as well as for Theresa?

It was the best I could do for both of them.

I was helping Theresa by being here with her, and I was helping Marissa by leaving her behind. She could move on with her life.

Meet someone new.

I squirm in bed as that idea comes to mind.

I hate the idea of her with anyone else.

But I'd had my chance. And I'd ruined it.

I was just about to hang up when I heard a small noise over the sounds of the ocean and my hand froze, listening for it again.

It had been barely a whimper. It sounded more like a small injured animal that a human being.

I listened intently.

And then I heard it again.

My heart contracted as I managed to discern the sound.

The sob was louder this time and the call was instantly disconnected.

I held the receiver still in my hand.

She was crying.

She was sobbing.

Because of me.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: __For__ those of you who have read my stories before, you will realise that this is quite different for me. I hope that you enjoy it._

Sleep totally eluded me….again.

Knowing that she was at 'our place' crying her eyes out made me feel even worse.

But what could I do?

I was stuck.

Here, in Chino.

I lay there wondering if Theresa had gone back to sleep.

I knew that the calls woke her, but she never mentioned them.

I was sure that she knew just as well as I did who was on the other end.

But she said nothing.

I waited.

And waited.

I couldn't get the sound of Marissa's sob out of my mind.

What if something was wrong? Other than the obvious?

I had spent too much time around Seth, thinking it had to be about me.

What if it was something else?

Something to do with her Dad?

Or her Mom?

Or her?

And she had no one to talk to about it.

The idea began to crystallize in my mind and I needed to do something about it.

I waited silently for more time to pass.

Surely Theresa would be asleep by now.

If she asked, I'd just say that I couldn't sleep and was going outside for a smoke.

I wasn't allowed to smoke inside the house, so it would be a good enough excuse.

Moving as quietly as possible, I slipped from the bed, picking up my jeans from the chair on the way past, and making my way out to the front steps.

I lit a cigarette and then glanced back to make sure that Theresa hadn't followed.

I hit the speed dial that I hadn't yet deleted, and waited.

And waited.

I could picture her, sitting at the lifeguard tower, being startled by the ringing of the phone.

I hadn't called her since I'd left.

I thought that it was better to make a clean break.

I quickly hit the end button on the call.

What was I doing?

It **was** better to make a clean break.

There was still nothing that I could offer her.

Nothing at all.

I shouldn't call her.

I really shouldn't.

But I only want to check that she's all right.

That's all.

Once I knew that she was okay, then, I wouldn't call her again.

I press her number on the speed dial again.

This time she answered. I can hear her small sniffle as she tries to control herself.

"Marissa?" I ask.

I waited for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few moments until I heard her plaintive reply.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

I could hear her start to whimper more, the emotions obviously threatening to boil over.

"Yes …. NO … I don't know," she finally got out.

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

And I wait.

And wait.

"Marissa?" I prompt her, wondering if she's still there.

"Yes," came the hesitant reply.

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Her voice sounded firmer this time.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"You're in Chino," she said simply.

I hung my head. She needed to understand that there was nothing that I could do about it. I look at my surroundings and sigh. Even the dull street lighting couldn't hide the run down houses, the peeling paint and the grime that was Chino.

"I know," I say resignedly.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," she said, apologizing, "I just needed to know that you were all right."

"I'm fine."

"I know that I'm not supposed to call you, but I can't stop thinking about you. Sometimes, it just gets to be too much and I need to hear your voice to know that you're okay."

How could I condemn her when I'd just done exactly the same thing? Didn't I sneak outside to call her for the same reason?

"I'm fine," I repeated.

"So I guess you have to go?" she asked resignedly.

I swallow the lump that I can feel in my throat. I don't want to say good bye.

"I can talk for a few minutes," I hear come out of my mouth. What was I doing? There was no way that I should be talking to her. The plan was to sever all contact. It was the best way to make the break.

But I didn't want to.

I wanted to sit there and listen to her voice. I didn't even care what she was talking about. Just being able to hear her and the soft sounds of the ocean in the background was like listening to something from another world, a dream world.

She spoke hesitantly at first. It was as if she was scared that she had a word count limit and if she spoke too quickly, then I'd have to go that much sooner.

She told me how hard it was for Summer without Seth.

Of course I felt that was my fault as well.

When I left Newport, I thought that it would make things easier for everyone. Instead it seemed to have made things harder.

I'd tried to call Seth but he wouldn't speak to me.

I lived with a 'friend' that barely talked to me, I had a brother that wouldn't talk to me, and the only person that wanted to talk to me was the one person who shouldn't.

How did things get so screwed up?

But listening to Marissa was great. She knew that I didn't want to talk. I never wanted to talk. Even more so now that I'd returned to Chino.

I didn't want to talk about the baby growing inside Theresa, about the shitty construction job I had, about the fact that I came back to Theresa's each night (I still couldn't think of it as 'home'), tired and filthy, and went through the motions that seemed to be someone else's life, not mine.

And so she filled in the awkward pauses by telling me about life in Newport.

I smiled as she recounted a shopping trip that she'd attempted to drag Summer on.

I knew that she was trying to prove that she was trying to move on without me.

It's just that it wasn't quite working.

"Ryan? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I sort of zoned out for a minute."

"I'm sorry. It's late. I should let you go. It's just that I'm scared that this might not ever happen again."

I didn't know what to say. It shouldn't ever happen again.

And yet it had given me a few moments of escape.

Couldn't I have that?

Who would it hurt?

Marissa knew that I couldn't be with her.

But surely I could talk to her.

Just as long as she didn't ask me to come back to Newport.

What could be the harm with that?

I heard the words come out before I'd really thought them through.

"I could always call you again," I offered, not sure if she'd want me to; it would be such a meagre offering.

She needed to know that was all I could do.

I was stuck in Chino now.

Surely talking to her, escaping to Newport in my mind, even if it was only for a few minutes now and then, wouldn't hurt anyone?

I'd like that," she whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for the feed back. Someone asked was this AU and as far as I'm concerned it isn't. In episode 2.01 Kirsten asked Marissa did she still talk to him and she said no, that she had tried at first and it got too difficult. I'm just trying to fill in that lost time. I hope that it all makes sense._

The guys at the building site gave me a hard time.

At first it had been only once a week or so, but now it was every day. I couldn't help myself.

I'd taken to eating my lunch in a hurry so that I could spend the rest of the break on the phone.

They teased me about being pussy whipped. They'd seen Theresa drop me off in the morning, then pick me up in the afternoon. They just assumed that I was talking to her.

And I didn't bother to correct them.

As soon as I finished eating, I'd take a walk, far enough away so that I was out of earshot.

Then they accused me of wanting privacy to talk dirty.

If only they knew …..

I did.

Just not with the person they imagined.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't give her hope when there wasn't any.

But still we talked.

Or more correctly, she talked and I listened.

The calls became my lifeline.

For a few minutes every day, I could remember what I'd had.

What I'd lost.

The experience was bittersweet.

It hurt to be reminded of the life that had slipped through my fingers. Yet I couldn't stop myself from partaking of the joy that the sound of her voice and her words brought to me.

It was the highlight of my day.

Of my life.

And strange as it may seem, I could tell that it was much the same for her.

No matter where she was or what she was doing, she took my calls.

I smiled to myself as I recalled some of the places that she'd been when we'd originally started this.

The first time I'd called her back, she'd been at the hairdresser's. I'd helped her to decide what color highlights she should get in her hair.

I wish that I could see how it had turned out.

The next time she was shopping with her mother.

That was particularly awkward since we both knew that Julie wouldn't have been happy to know that we were keeping in contact. She'd pretended that I was some friend from school (which wasn't all that wrong).

Now, she scheduled her appointments around lunch when she knew I'd call. That way we weren't interrupted. It made quite a change from when I'd been living in the pool house.

Seth had always seemed to have some in built sixth sense whenever I was on the phone to her, and he'd barge in and disturb us.

But now we could talk in peace.

Although, I doubted that peace was the word for it.

And yet, I found our talks calming.

Often, when she had the choice, she'd be at the beach at the lifeguard tower when we spoke.

It seemed that we were closer then.

If she couldn't get there, then she'd usually be in her room.

On her bed.

I'd lost countless night's sleep trying to imagine what that was like.

I hadn't seen Caleb's house where she was now living.

Or the room where she was now sleeping.

She'd attempted to describe it to me.

But it wasn't the same.

Nothing was the same.

Theresa had a baby growing inside her.

And it could be mine.

----

The weekends were the hardest to get through. I took every bit of overtime that was offered for two reasons; because I wanted to stockpile the money for when the baby was born, and because I wanted to be at the house as little as possible.

Just looking at Theresa made me feel guilty.

Guilty, because it was possible that I was responsible for the life growing inside her.

Probability said it was most likely Eddie's, but that didn't matter. She couldn't go back to him. So either way, this baby was my responsibility.

Guilty, because I couldn't reciprocate her feelings.

I knew that she hoped for more, hoped that we would become a couple.

I guess we were a couple … of some kind. We lived together.

It just wasn't the kind she was hoping for.

That was never going to happen. I felt nothing more for her than obligation … and deep regret. I didn't love her.

Guilty, because the person I did love was miles away, hurting as much as I was.

Guilty, because the only light in my life came from the phone calls that I made.

Phone calls that I knew would upset Theresa if she knew about them.

And so the ebb and flow of my life continued, my small pleasures coming from talking to Marissa, the only bright spot in my days.

That was until …

----

It was a Friday morning. Theresa was dropping me off in front of the work site as one of my co-workers walked by. It was Hank, one of the guys that delighted in giving me a hard time about my lunch time activities.

He stopped and turned to me as I was getting out of the car.

"Coming for a drink with us this afternoon, Atwood? Or won't the little missus let you off the ball and chain?" he teased and kept walking.

I smiled embarrassedly at the comment, deciding that it was best to just ignore it.

I turned to say good bye to Theresa only to catch the guilty look on her face.

"You never told me that you had something on," she said.

"I haven't. It's nothing special," I explained. "The guys go every Friday."

"But you never go," she pointed out.

"No. Because I'm not going to waste my money. We need it for the baby."

"We'll manage. But you have to have some enjoyment in your life. I know you're not happy here. Maybe if you spent some time with your friends, then it wouldn't be so bad."

"It's not bad."

"You spend all your time either at work or at home with me and my Mom," she said.

"What do you expect me to do? Go visit Eddie and swap stories with him?" I ask her defensively.

I regret the words as soon as they're out. But what does she expect of me? I'm trying as hard as I can.

"Just ignore Hank," I said.

"If you want to go, you should go," she said.

"I don't want to go. Just pick me up at the normal time."

"I think you should go."

"And what are you going to do?"

The doctor had told her she needed to rest, so she'd quit her job. Her mom handled taking care of the house. All she did each day after she dropped me off was to sit and wait in front of the television until it was time to pick me up. Her life was even more boring than mine.

"I'll ... I'll ... take my mom to a movie. There's this chick flick that she wants to see. We'll go out for the night. Treat ourselves. And you should do the same."

I look at her, trying to gauge if she's serious.

"I don't have any money with me," I explain. I never took my wallet to work. It was too easy to lose it.

She quickly opened her purse and handed me a twenty.

"We have to have some fun in our lives," she said, holding the money out to me.

"I'm not of age."

I know that I'm fighting this, and I also know why. But she doesn't. She's right, I'm not happy here. But I don't want to be. It's part of my punishment for screwing up her life. And mine.

"Since when has any bar in Chino cared? If you're with the guys from here, then as long as you can afford to pay, they won't question you."

I know that she's right.

She still held the twenty out in front of her.

"I don't want to see you home tonight before eight. Later if you like. Take some time. Have some fun."

I have to admit that the idea definitely appeals.

Anything appeals compared to going back to her place at the end of the day and watching her go through the motions of cooking me dinner. I used to volunteer to cook, but she insisted that she needed to feel like she was contributing something.

I tentatively reach for the money.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

She nods.

"I'll see you later tonight," she said and then adds as an after thought, "Do you need me to come and get you?"

"No. I'll get one of the guys to drop me off."

She nods, pulls the car from the curb and drives off down the street with a wave.

I watch her go, quickly pocket the twenty, and enter the site to start my day.

This was going to be a different kinda day.

Little did I know ….


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thanks for the feed back. Things are about to get interesting._

When I called Marissa at lunchtime, something was different. There was someone talking in the background.

"Where are you?" I ask. It was often the first thing I said because I liked to be able to envision her either sitting at "our place" or lying on her bed.

"You really don't want to know," she replied, sounding somewhat embarrassed.

"Yeah I do," I teased.

It was so good to hear her voice. Over the last few weeks, since we'd been talking, her whole demeanor had changed. She wasn't the sad sorry girl that I'd started speaking to. She had some spark back in her voice. I'm sure that I sounded the same when I was talking to her.

"I'm in San Bernardino."

I was surprised.

"Doing what?" I asked and waited patiently for an answer.

"Don't laugh?"

"Would I do that?" I teased.

"Yes," she responded quickly. "If you want me to tell you, then you have to promise not to laugh."

"How can I promise that when I don't even know what it is? It might be something hilarious and I won't be able to help myself."

Marissa chuckled.

"K, why are you now laughing at me?" I ask.

"Because the thought of you finding anything hilarious is amusing. Just getting you to smile is hard enough."

"That's not true," I say, defensively.

"Ryan?"

"Okay. So I'm not known for the big belly laugh. That just confirms that it's highly unlikely that I'm going to laugh at you, so you should feel safe in telling me. Where exactly are you and what are you doing?"

She hesitated for a moment before she spoke.

"I'm at a photographer's studio. Some guy that Mom heard was the best of the best. She's been on my back about spending the summer sitting around doing nothing, pretty funny considering that's what she's been doing all summer. She's arranged for me to have some professional photos done to make up a portfolio. She thinks I might make a good model. I figured I'd humor her. Anything to get her off my back."

"And why would you think that I'd find that funny?"

"Because."

"Because?" I question.

"I don't know. Because models are supposed to be attractive and stuff."

"You know that you're attractive. Hell … you're gorgeous," I point out, stating the obvious. My voice caught on the last words as I thought about the fact that she was once mine. I'd destroyed the chance that we'd had.

"Thanks," she responded shyly, "You're not so bad yourself."

There were a few moments of awkward silence until she finally broke it with a suggestion.

"I wondered if it might be okay for me to come by to visit on my way home this afternoon. I should be finished here about five, so, depending on the traffic, I'd be at Theresa's about five thirty."

"I ah … I won't be there. I'm supposed to be having a drink with the guys from work."

"Oh."

I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

"I'm not even sure if Theresa will be there. She spoke about going to the movies with her Mom."

"I see. I guess it was a bad idea. It was just that I would be in the area."

She tried to sound as if she didn't really care, but I could tell that she was disappointed.

There was another awkward silence. All I could think about was the opportunity to see her. Who knows when, or even if that would ever happen again? I contemplate entertaining her at Theresa's without her there, but that seems totally wrong.

"Maybe we could meet up for coffee or something?" I suggested.

"Or I could just come to the bar?" she teased.

I could just imagine the reaction that I'd get from the guys from work if Marissa waltzed in to the bar.

"Sorry, you're underage," I pointed out.

"And you're not?" she teased.

When did she get so smart?

"It's coffee or nothing," I offer.

"Coffee sounds great."

I smile to myself as I try to wrap my head around the idea that I'm going to see her in the flesh this very afternoon.

"Ryan? Are you still there?" she prompts.

I'd gotten lost in my daydream.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Where should I meet you? Do you want me to come to the bar?"

"No. I'll meet you on the corner of Elm and 13th. Can you pick me up?"

"Sure."

I can hear the smile in her voice.

"I have a new car. It's a red Mustang. I thought that you should know, just in case some other female tries to pick you up."

"Thanks. I doubt that will happen."

"You underestimate your appeal," Marissa teased.

"I'll be in my work clothes and filthy dirty. I doubt that anyone could find anything appealing about that."

"I know I will," she replied quickly.

I gulped. I could feel my body respond. It seemed so long since I flirted with a girl, any girl. And my dick was way out of practice. Not that the opportunity wasn't there with Theresa; she would have loved me to go for it.

It was more that I couldn't even begin to consider it. It was what led me back to Chino in the first place.

There was no right thing for me to say in response so I mutter a confirmation.

"I'll see you at five thirty?"

"Looking forward to it."

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Thanks for those that are taking the time to review. I appreciate it._

Luckily, I wasn't required to do anything that required my brain to be engaged that afternoon, because I couldn't have concentrated on anything.

It was too full of thoughts of her.

Of how she'd look.

Of how she'd smile.

Of how she'd smell.

…

Of how she'd taste.

I kept trying to rid myself of the thoughts.

Especially the last one …

There was no future for us.

I needed to keep reminding myself of that.

This was a one time thing.

I'd probably never see her again.

But that just made me even more focused on looking forward to it.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder", they say.

I couldn't agree more.

If I kept thinking about her, I could add to that.

"Abstinence makes the dick grow longer."

I rubbed at the hard on that thinking about her had brought on, looking for some relief, then realized all I had to do was think about Theresa and it disappeared in an instant.

I shouldn't be doing this.

Theresa wouldn't be happy.

But then she didn't need to know.

She'd encouraged me to spend some time with my friends.

And now, with a baby growing inside Theresa, that's all Marissa could ever be.

But it didn't stop me looking forward to seeing her.

It was all I could think about.

---

At four, I made my way to the local bar with the guys from work and indulged in a beer. There was plenty of light hearted banter and they used some of the time to tease me about my lunchtime calls again. But they were impressed that I'd actually managed to break away from the 'little woman' for once.

I tried to nurse my beer until it was time to leave. I've never been a big drinker and I wasn't about to start now. I've seen too many lives wrecked by the effects of alcohol. But the boys from work had other ideas.

I was the baby on site and this was the first time that I'd been out with them. So they kept lining up the drinks in front of me, like it was some sort of test. Little did they know that I had no intention of playing their game?

I had something important to look forward to and there was no chance that I would take the chance of ruining the evening by being too far gone.

No way.

I kept looking at the clock, wondering when I could make my escape. About five, I excused myself and went to the bathroom, the guys all teasing me that I couldn't hold my liquor.

But I was more than happy to put up with the teasing, as long as I could get away on time.

I washed up as well as I could in the small washroom, trying to rid myself of the layers of dirt that I'd acquired during the course of the day. It wasn't entirely successful, but it was an improvement. My clothes were still filthy, but it was the best that I could do.

I joined the guys again and made my good byes, telling them that I didn't want to upset the little woman by being late or she wouldn't let me out again.

They all laughed and said that I should join them again next week.

Who knows? Maybe I will.

I exited the bar and quickly walked the few blocks to where I'd agreed to meet Marissa. It was in the opposite direction to where Theresa would head if she was going to the movies.

Just in case.

I arrived just before five-thirty but she was nowhere in sight.

I lit a cigarette to try to calm my nerves.

Why was I nervous?

I was meeting an old friend for coffee.

Nothing more.

It was totally innocent.

The fact that the old friend just happened to be a female that had ocean blue eyes, legs that went forever, hair that fell in waves about her shoulders and breasts that filled my hands just so …

I was startled as the car pulled up beside me.

"Wanna lift, mister?" she teased.

I know that I must look surprised because I fucking am.

Besides that fact that she's caught me fantasizing about something that I no longer had the right to, the fact was, the car was …… fucking HOT.

We needed to get it out of here, out of Chino, as quickly as possible.

It was the sort of car that people around here would talk about for days ... weeks even.

If anyone I knew saw me getting into it, then word was sure to get back to Theresa somehow, some way.

And I knew that she wouldn't be happy.

I glanced about to make sure that there wasn't anyone watching and quickly got in the car.

"Nice wheels," I said, my eyes instantly drawn to her legs. She was wearing a short skirt and it had ridden up high on her thighs.

"They're actually called legs," she teased, taking in my line of vision.

I blushed. I couldn't very well disagree with her.

"They're nice too," I had to admit.

She smiled demurely, but I knew that it was all an act.

She knew how much I was attracted to her.

I always had been, from the moment I first saw her.

I always will be.

But now, it couldn't lead to anything.

Ever.

"Where to?" she asked.

We needed to put some space between us and Chino, or I would never be able to relax.

I directed her back on to the freeway.

If I kept looking at her legs, I wouldn't be able to relax either.

I tried to think of somewhere we could go where the car wouldn't stand out, where we wouldn't stand out.

Finally, it came to me, and I directed her to Ontario Airport. At least, at this time on a Friday afternoon, it would be busy.

There would be too many people coming and going for anyone to notice either the car or us.

Plus, not too many of the people that I associated with now had the spare cash for a plane trip anywhere. If they did, then they wouldn't be living in Chino. They would have gotten out.

Like I once had.

But I'd been sucked back into its murky depths.

I needed to keep in mind the fact that this reprieve was only for a couple of hours.

I'd be going back soon enough.

As the few miles flew past, I used the time to look at her.

She'd lost some weight.

But she was still stunning.

"I like the hair color," I commented.

"So do I. You picked well," she said, teasing me.

I'd been worried that this meeting would be filled with angst, but she seemed to be treating it more as an adventure. I wasn't sure if it was natural or whether she was working at it. I'd need to be able to look into her eyes to have any chance of guessing.

And I was scared to do that.

Scared of what I might see.

Scared of losing myself in them.

Maybe it was just me who expected angst if we spent time together.

Maybe it was just a visit with a friend to her.

Maybe I was the only one making more of this than I should.

She pulled into the parking lot and we headed for the terminal, looking for a coffee shop.

"So I gather that Theresa doesn't know about this?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"No. She might not understand, and I didn't see any point in upsetting her."

Marissa nodded.

"I'm not trying to cause a problem for you. I just wanted to see you," she explained.

"I wanted to see you, too."

She glanced at me and as our eyes met and held, I felt something shift inside me.

I pulled my eyes away and added, "She did tell me to spend some time with my friends."

"I hope that I'll always be your friend."

"I hope so too," I agreed, holding the door open for her to enter the terminal.

We found a relatively quiet Starbucks, got our coffees, then took a table in the far corner, out of sight of most passers by.

I had an amazing fascination with watching the steam rising from my coffee.

Anything to keep from looking into her eyes.

I knew that the sparks that existed between us were still there.

I had to keep them at bay somehow.

Theresa had a baby growing inside her.

And it might be mine.

Even if it wasn't, it was my responsibility.


	6. Chapter 6

It was strange.

I know that we were talking and yet I have no idea what about.

I was too busy drinking in the sight of her to care.

I don't know if anything that I was saying was even making sense, but she didn't seem to notice.

I have a feeling that we're on the same page.

I count the freckles on the bridge of her nose, sure that there are two extras from the last time I saw her.

I've always loved her sprinkling of freckles.

It's like they make her human.

If they weren't there, then she'd be too perfect.

Too perfect and totally unattainable.

But she was totally unattainable anyhow.

At least to me.

She was off limits.

She'd had her nails done and they had small white flowers on the tips.

I watched every movement she made, wanting to drink it all in and commit it to memory, so that when I was lying in bed late at night, I could recall it all again.

I lost track of the passage of time, just enjoying being with her until she asked the fateful question.

"Could I ... could I touch you?" she asked tentatively.

Her fingers were wrapped about her now empty cup and were perfectly still ...

I gulped.

What exactly was she asking, a part of my brain wanted to know?

There was a part saying, HELL YES!

And still another saying, NO WAY IN THE WORLD! You'll be lost forever.

Noticing my hesitation, she went on to explain.

"It's just that this, being here with you, it all seems like a dream. I've wanted it so much that I'm scared that I've conjured you up with my imagination. If I could just touch you, touch your hand, maybe I could believe that it's real."

"I'm sure that if your mind was conjuring me up, then I would at least be clean," I say embarrassedly, looking at the state of my clothes.

"I couldn't care less what you're wearing. It's what's underneath that counts," she said and then blushed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to be suggestive," she apologised. "I meant that just because I live in Newport doesn't mean that I can't see what really makes a man, and clothes definitely don't matter."

I nod my understanding.

I slowly stretch my arm out towards her and she does the same, until the tips of our fingers touch.

We both quickly retract our fingers as the sparks threaten to ignite.

But our hands stay put.

We both want to go back for another try.

I tentatively stretch my fingers out again and she does likewise.

This time it's better.

Much better.

I want to thread my fingers through hers and hold her hand tight.

But I can't.

Theresa has a baby growing inside her.

And it might be mine.

I notice her glance at the clock on the wall. It's six-thirty.

"When do you have to go?" I ask, not ready yet for this to end, yet knowing at the same time that it should.

"I'm in no hurry. What about you? When are you expected home?"

I cringe at the use of the word.

Surely that place that I go to at nights isn't my 'home'.

My home is with her.

In Newport.

Living with Theresa is my 'punishment'.

My own private hell.

Made even worse by the fact that Theresa is so accepting of everything.

I'd almost rather that she got angry, or depressed, or ... something.

I bring myself back to the moment. I don't want to spoil this time by thinking about Theresa.

There will be plenty of time for that later.

"Probably around eight. Do you have time to grab a burger or something?" I ask.

"Sure. I'll have you know that I've lost weight lately, so I'm trying to eat more."

"I noticed. Why are you losing weight?" I ask. She didn't have much to lose.

She shrugs her shoulders.

"I seem to have lost my appetite," came her reply.

I know the feeling well. It seems that there is always a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach these days.

"But a burger sounds great," she continues, "And maybe we can get a sundae too?" she suggested. "Suddenly I'm feeling hungry," she added smiling.

"That's good. But I only have about twelve dollars left on me; I wasn't expecting to be going out tonight, so the sundae might have to wait for next time."

"There's going to be a next time?" she asked. Her eyes were like saucers and her expression eager.

What have I done?

There shouldn't be a next time.

There shouldn't even be a this time.

But I feel more alive right now than I've felt in weeks.

"I guess that's up to you. I don't have a car. But if you wanted to visit every now and then … I couldn't really stop you."

"But you'd meet me?"

I roll the idea around in my head knowing that I should say no. But I'm fighting a losing battle.

"As long as we can keep it to ourselves and not upset Theresa, then I can't see why not."

It feels so good to be spending time with her.

I feel alive again.

"Okay," she said with a grin. "But the burgers are my treat. You bought the coffees. Actually, they're really Caleb's treat, since he's the one that pays for my allowance," she explains and a large smile forms on her face. "I'm sure that he'd love to spend his money on you."


	7. Chapter 7

Marissa dropped me off a few blocks from Theresa's. I walked the rest of the way.

I was relieved to find that they were still out when I got there, although there was another part of me that was disappointed, because I needn't have hurried. I could have spent more time with her.

I stripped my work clothes off to shower. For the first time in a long time, as the water ran over me, I allowed myself to think about her and my hand trailed south. I hadn't even thought about relieving myself since I'd moved in with Theresa. After all, it was my dick that led me here, to this predicament. But with thoughts of Marissa filling my mind, I came quickly and hard.

I cleaned up the shower, making sure to leave no tell tale signs. The last thing I needed was for Theresa to think that I needed some sexual relief.

I dressed and had just settled down in front of the television when Theresa and her mother walked in.

"Did you have a good time?" she asked.

I hadn't turned on many lights, so it was still semi-dark. I was glad of it because I was sure I looked guilty.

"Yeah. I did," I reply, the guilt washing over me in a wave, "How was the movie?"

"Good, probably not your sort of thing, but good. Have you been home long? Do you want me to get you something to eat?"

"Thanks. But I had a burger already."

"If you don't want anything, then I'm going to head off to bed."

"I'll be in soon," I reply. I wanted to spend some time going back over the evening in my mind.

I still feel guilty. But the pleasure from seeing Marissa completely outweighs it. The guilt is worth it.

That night, I had the best night's sleep I'd had since I'd returned to Chino.

I now had something to look forward to.

---

Theresa obviously noticed my improved mood because on Saturday, she suggested that I should go with the guys from work every Friday. That it was good for me.

And who was I to disagree?

It gave me the perfect opportunity to meet up with Marissa.

That's assuming that she'd want to get together again.

I spent Sunday constantly replaying everything that happened between us in my mind.

I was nervous whether she would want to meet me again.

Maybe in the light of day, she would realize that what I could offer wasn't enough.

Waiting until Monday lunchtime to call her was nerve wracking.

I was sweating bricks by the time I'd finished my lunch and made my way to a quiet area where I could call her.

But I needn't have worried.

She answered on the first ring.

"Hey."

I can feel the smile course through my body from the sound of her voice.

One word … only one word from her makes my toes curl.

"Hey," I return.

There is a long pause, but it's not uncomfortable. It's like the connection has been made and we're savouring it.

Finally she asks, "How were things when you got home on Friday? Did she notice anything?"

"No. I was home before them. What about you? It must have been late by the time you got home. You still had quite a drive after dropping me off. Did they have the search party out?"

"No. No one ever notices anything that I do. Mom and Caleb are much too self involved. And Summer is spending all her time with Zach these days. But I did have the best night's sleep that I've had in ages."

"Me too. I slept like a ba.." I stop in mid sentence. I don't want to talk babies with her.

And what a stupid saying anyhow. Weren't babies supposed to cry a lot?

"Baby," she finishes. I can hear the change of mood in her voice.

"Yeah," I reply, now feeling guilty again.

I realise how common that is for me now.

I feel guilty when I talk to Marissa because I fucked someone else and in turn, fucked up my life and hers.

I feel guilty when I talk to Theresa because I fucked up her life and because I'm keeping my contact with Marissa from her.

I know that she wouldn't be happy about it.

So guilt has become my constant companion.

And yet for those few hours that I was with Marissa, I felt good.

I smiled without having to try.

I felt alive.

But I feel bad that she seems to think that no one cares about her.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

"I'm sorry that I can't be there for you," I say guiltily.

"I know. You're clever. But even you can't be in two places at once," she says resignedly.

"I'm sorry," I say again.

"Don't keep saying that. I hope that you're not sorry about meeting me?"

"Of course not."

"So you haven't changed your mind? We can do it again?"

I smile at the enthusiasm clearly evident in her words.

"If you want."

"Don't play all coy on me. You know that I want to. The question is whether you want to?"

"Of course I do," I can't help but admit.

"Can you get away this Friday?"

"I should be able to. Theresa wants me to spend more time with my friends."

"Good. Same time, same place?"

"Uh huh."

I couldn't help but smile, thinking about seeing her again.

---

By the time Friday came, I couldn't wait for the day to pass.

I was cleared with Theresa to have a drink with my friends again and she wasn't expecting me home before eight. She'd even told me to take my time and not hurry since I'd enjoyed myself so much the previous week.

Little did she know.

I hated keeping things from her, but telling her would upset her, and she needed to be calm for the baby's sake.

And the only other option, to actually not see Marissa, was not even possible as far as I was concerned.

It was looking forward to it, that had kept me going all week.

And this time I had some money with me. I didn't like the idea of Marissa paying. Even if was with Caleb's money.

Marissa told me at lunchtime that she had a surprise for me. I spent the whole afternoon thinking about what it could be.

---

I was planning on being on the assigned corner by five twenty, not wanting to take the chance of her having to wait around in the red Mustang and draw attention to herself, but she was already there.

But not in the Mustang.

She was sitting in a beat up old brown SUV and I would have walked right by if she hadn't called out.

"Wanna lift, cutie?" she teased.

I did a double take and checked out the car.

"Where did this come from?" I asked, perplexed. No one in Newport owned something this run down.

"Rent-a-Wreck. Would you believe that because I'm not twenty one, they didn't want to rent it to me? I had to leave the Mustang there as collateral."

"But why?" I ask again as I hop in the passenger seat.

"I could tell that you were nervous about it last week. I thought that this might blend in a little better. And it obviously did. You were walking right past me."

I smile in response.

How come she can read me so easily?

"It wasn't quite what I expected."

"So you'd rather I go and swap it back for my car?" she teased.

"No. I think you're right. This fits in a lot better around here. So this was the surprise?"

"A part of it. The rest is in the back seat."

I look over and see a picnic basket and a blanket.

"Last week was fun, but I get to spend so little time with you that I'd rather not have to share you with others. Plus I knew that you felt self conscious about your work clothes. So I did a little research on the internet and there's a scenic lookout not far from here. I thought that we could go there and have a picnic in the car and watch the sunset, and then the lights of the city as they come on."

I'm amazed by her thoughtfulness.

"That sounds great."

She smiles at me and I can feel my heart melt as she pulls the car out and heads west.

I had a feeling that eight o'clock was going to come much too quickly.

---

When we got there, she backed the car in so that we could sit in the back and face the setting sun. We spread the blanket out and laid out the food.

But food was the last thing on my mind.

I just wanted to be with her.

To look at her.

To listen to her voice.

Watch the corners of her mouth move as she smiled.

Hear the pure sound when she giggled.

I tried to memorize each and every nuance that was uniquely hers.

We talked about the week that had just passed.

Or more correctly, she talked and I listened.

As she ate, some of the coleslaw got caught on the side of her mouth and I couldn't help myself. I reached over to gently wipe it away.

Her tongue, pink, soft, moist, came to greet my finger and she sucked it into her mouth.

I was transfixed.

Her tongue softly stroked my finger and it was all I could do not to push her back on the floor of the SUV and take her on the spot.

But that would be so wrong. I couldn't do that.

To her.

To Theresa.

Her hand was now resting on my thigh and it was burning through the denim.

I'd swear that there would be scorch marks left behind.

"We can't do this," I hear come out of my mouth, when I really want to say, please, can we do this?

She nods her agreement, the regret clearly evident in her eyes.

She removes her hand.

"Do you want me to take you home?" she asked.

There's that word again.

It's not my home.

It will never be my home.

A home is where people love.

It's just the place where I live.

I nod.

"It's time," I say regretfully.

---

Things are quiet in the car on the way back until she finally breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped some boundary back there," she apologizes to me. "Please don't stop seeing me because of it. I promise that I won't try anything again. I know that you don't want to …"

"You don't know anything. I do want to. I want to so much it hurts. But I can't."

"I know. It's just that sometimes I want you so much, it's hard to remember why we aren't together."

I nod.

I know exactly what she means.

But I have to share a bed with Theresa every night. I know exactly why we can't be together.

She pulls up at the corner to drop me off.

"Can we still do this next Friday? I promise to behave."

I see her eyes anticipating my response. There's fear there.

Fear that I might say no. I can't do that to her.

I've hurt her enough already.

Plus I want these meetings just as much as she does.

"Sure. I'll look forward to it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 5**

I knew that Marissa's birthday was coming up the next Sunday, but try as I might, I couldn't think of a way to do something for her without Theresa finding out.

But then fate stepped in.

It was Theresa's aunt's silver wedding anniversary on that Friday evening. They lived in San Diego, and it was going to be a big affair. All the family had been invited and Theresa had assumed that I would go.

But it was the last thing that I wanted to do.

Much as I had always gotten on well with Theresa's mom, I knew that once we were surrounded by the family, all the questions would start about when we were getting married.

Her mom didn't push us, but I knew that she was a staunch Catholic. She didn't want her grandchild to be born out of wedlock. Once she had the might of the family behind her, the pressure would really be on.

And I didn't want to get married.

I was prepared to stand by Theresa for the sake of this baby.

But getting married was something else entirely.

We were too young.

Plus ... I didn't love her.

Surely that counted for something.

So when Theresa asked me to take Friday off because they wanted to travel to San Diego early in the day to help with the cooking and preparations, I quickly used work as an excuse not to go.

I pleaded that the project was already running behind time and that the boss would never let me have the time off. Plus, we couldn't afford to miss out on my pay from both Friday and the overtime from Saturday that I would miss as well, since they were staying overnight.

Then, of course, she offered to stay home with me.

But I didn't want that either.

I wanted some time on my own.

I was starting to feel claustrophobic around her, as if every move I made was being analysed.

The only time I could breathe freely was when I was at work ...

Or with Marissa ... but that was different.

Theresa tried to find someone else to drive her mother to San Diego early. She offered to wait until I got out of work, then we could go together and drive home after the party. But no one was available.

She even volunteered to drive her mother down on Friday morning and drive back to pick me up. But I convinced her that that was a lot of gas to use for one party, and we really couldn't afford it.

Eventually, she reluctantly agreed. She knew how hard I worked to put money away for the baby, and without her working, we needed every penny.

I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I didn't have to go.

Then there was the other aspect of the decision.

I'd be on my own on Friday night.

Well … hopefully not on my own.

But I wouldn't have to be home by eight.

We'd have all the time in the world.

---

I wait until Friday lunchtime, after I'm sure that Theresa has already left for San Diego, before I let Marissa know.

I'd been too scared that something would happen and Theresa might change her mind and not go. She had offered several times to stay behind and keep me company, which was nice of her, but something I didn't want for obvious reasons.

When I call Marissa at lunchtime, I tell her that I have a surprise for her and she instantly starts in on me, trying to find out what it is.

I smile as I listen to her entreaties and I contemplate keeping it a secret. She finally wears me down and I cave, telling her that I'm going to take her out for dinner as a birthday treat. She needs to pick the place, and it needs to be affordable. The Arches isn't in my price range, I remind her.

There's a moment of silence from the other end and I wonder if I've done something wrong. Maybe she already has plans for this evening.

"I know that your birthday's not until Sunday, but I thought that we could celebrate early," I explain.

"You remembered," she said softly.

"Of course I remembered."

It was more likely that I'd forget my own birthday before I'd forget hers.

"Surely you didn't think that I'd forget?" I ask, surprised by her comment.

"It seems that everyone else has. Summer has plans with the new guy that she's seeing that she says she can't get out of. And Caleb and Mom have gone away to some couples spa weekend thing in Palm Springs. Although thinking about it, maybe that's their present to me. Not having to put up with the two of them for the weekend is a bonus."

"We'll just have to make sure that we have fun tonight. I'm sorry that I can't be with you on Sunday, but maybe I'll be able to give you a call or something."

"I'll pretend that today's my birthday instead," she said sounding bright and excited by the prospect. "But I need to find somewhere that can serve us quickly so that I can get you home by eight."

When she finds out that I don't have a curfew for the night, I swear that I could actually hear the smile in her voice.

---

At four, I made my way to the local bar with the guys from work. They continued to bust my balls about the lunchtime calls, but at least it was all in fun. They'd given up trying to get me drunk. They knew that I would usually stay until just after five, which inspired them to rag at me about 'getting home to the little woman'.

If only they knew.

That was the last thing I wanted to do.

But going with them every Friday gave me the perfect cover for my visits with Marissa.

But tonight I didn't need cover.

I stayed for one drink and was out the door.

I couldn't wait to see Marissa and I'd called her to tell her to pick me up early.

She was waiting when I got to the corner. This time in some non-descript Ford.

"No Mustang?" I asked as I got into the car.

"I wasn't sure what you had planned so I thought a visit to my friend at Rent a Wreck might be a good idea."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to go home and shower," I asked. "I'm really dirty and I want to be respectable for your birthday dinner."

"You're fine the way you are. I'll take you anyway I can get you," she replied, a hint of innuendo in her words.

I glanced across at her wondering if I'd imagined it, but she hadn't taken her eyes from the road. Maybe it was my mind that was looking for suggestive hints from her.

She continued, "I have a few surprises of my own planned. You needn't bother, but if you want to clean up, that's fine."

"I'd feel better," I explain.

She nodded as she turned the car around and headed for Theresa's.

My mind instantly went into overdrive thinking about what she had planned. She looked great. She was dressed casually in a short denim skirt and a halter top, so I wouldn't have to get dressed up.

I didn't do dressed up.

We covered the distance quickly. When we pulled up in front of the house, I opened the door to get out, and I sensed Marissa's hesitation.

"I won't take long. I promise. We'll be out of here in no time."

"Should I just wait here?" she questioned.

"No. People will wonder what you're doing. They might think that you're casing the place."

"Won't they wonder about the strange car anyway?"

"In this? They'll just think that it's someone from work dropping me off. You may as well come in while you wait," I say, getting out.

I pause to unlock the door, and she reluctantly follows behind.

I open the door wide for her to enter before me.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" I ask, moving inside.

She shakes her head nervously.

"Just make yourself at home. I won't be long," I say. I head to the bathroom, stopping to grab some clean clothes on the way.

---

After a quick shower, I hastily pulled on jeans, a wife beater and a button down shirt, knowing that Marissa was uncomfortable waiting in the living room. I wondered what she had planned for us. I hoped that she understood that it would need to be fairly low key.

I didn't have any nice clothes with me here.

I had left them all in Newport.

I threw my dirty clothes into the laundry hamper and returned to the living room, only to find it empty.

I moved to the door, thinking that she might have retreated to the car, but she wasn't there either.

I turned back to the hallway wondering where she might have been and then it hit me.

I knew where she was.

The door at the end of the hallway was ajar. When I got to it, I gently pushed it open.

The mint green of the freshly painted walls greet me. She's standing in the middle of the room gently touching the crib that I'd put together last weekend.

She turns to look at me, a guilty look on her face and tears running silently down her face.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, her words coming out in broken pieces.

I couldn't say a word, but manage to silently nod my head.

"This wasn't supposed to happen. I was meant to be with you," she states gently, "If anyone should be having your baby, it should be me," she says and then corrects herself, "I want it to be me."

I allow myself a moment to picture Marissa pregnant with my child. I can feel the corners of my mouth turn up, but then quickly rid myself of the thought.

"No, you don't. You're too young."

"And you're not?" she asks incredulously.

"Yes. I'm too young too. But I didn't have a choice."

"Of course you had a choice."

I hang my head as the guilt washes over me.

What could I say?

I did have a choice.

Back when I decided to fuck Theresa.

I should have said no.

But I'd taken the opportunity for some mindless pleasure as an escape from my problems.

And look where I'd ended up.

I'd screwed up my life.

I'd screwed up Theresa's.

And it seemed that I'd screwed up Marissa's as well.

But she could still get out of it. She could move on. None of this had to be irreparable for her.

The tears were still moving silently down her face.

I wanted to take her in my arms but I was scared that if I did, I'd never be able to let her go.

"Why isn't it me? We nearly did it. So many times. But after the way that things turned out with Luke, I just wanted to wait. To be sure ..." she says.

I feel myself nod.

I wish that I'd waited.

I didn't think that I could feel worse or more guilty than I already had been, but I was wrong. I had hit a new low.

She looks at me sadly and then says forlornly, "I didn't want things to end up like … this."

"I know. But there's nothing that I can do about it. This baby could be mine. Even if it isn't, I can't let Theresa go back to Eddie and she can't manage on her own. There's no one else."

"So you'll stay with her even if the baby isn't yours?"

"I don't see that I have any other choice."

"You always have a choice," she said softly.

I realize that there's no point in us continuing this conversation. We're never going to agree. She doesn't understand what life is like for a fatherless child growing up in a place like Chino. We've been through it all before.

"Why don't we get out of here? We're supposed to be celebrating your birthday."

She nods.

"Sure," she says as she moves by me and out into the hall, wiping the tears from her face on her way.

I close the door to the baby's room behind me and we hastily leave the house, wanting to leave all thoughts of Theresa and the baby behind, at least for a few hours.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Thanks to those of you that have let me know that you're enjoying this. I know that it's quite different from anything that I've written before and from the scarcity of reviews, I gather that it's not to everyone's taste. There's only one more chapter to go after this._

Once on the freeway, we leave Chino behind and Marissa starts to head towards the coast, but not south west towards Newport. Due west towards ...

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"That's my surprise for you," she says with a knowing grin.

She seems to have put the previous conversation behind her. I'm sure that it's all an act, but at this point I'll take what I can get.

"I'm not the one with the birthday. I shouldn't be getting surprises."

"But if it makes me happy, then surely I should be able to do it. After all, I am the birthday girl."

"It's hard to argue with that logic," I reply, smiling. Her mood is infectious.

"I'm sorry that I didn't get you anything. There's not much around in Chino that you'd want anyway."

"That's not true," she says glancing at me, the meaning behind her words obvious.

"Having you here, with me is the best gift I could ever ask for," she states clearly in case I didn't pick up on her meaning the first time and I feel a lump in my throat.

How could I have been so stupid to screw this up?

We continue silently on until we reach the coast and she pulls into a mediocre looking motel.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea here. I've booked us a room, but only because I know that you're usually self conscious about the fact that you come straight from work. I didn't realize that you'd have the opportunity to go home and change. They have a restaurant here that delivers meals to the rooms. I thought we could just order in and watch some movies and not have to be concerned about anyone or anything else for a few hours."

I could see that she was nervous about how I'd respond, but the idea was a good one, and she had made it clear that it, the room, was just for convenience. There were no ulterior motives.

Would I have cared if there was?

Was I disappointed that there wasn't? I didn't want to contemplate that idea, scared of what the answers might be.

"Sure. Sounds great," I reply.

The room is not luxurious, but it's comfortable.

We select from the menu, deciding to keep it simple.

Pizza, sodas and popcorn, the perfect movie watching meal.

It was like we were turning back the clock.

How many nights had we sat on the bed in the pool house and done the same thing?

But back then, we'd taken it for granted. Now being able to spend this time alone together was something special.

After ordering our meal came the time to pick a movie.

"What do you want to watch?" she asks.

"This is not my birthday treat. It's yours. So whatever you want. Although I have to admit that I'm not disappointed that 'The Notebook' is not on the list. I've seen that movie enough to last a lifetime," I point out, but with a grin that tells her that I'm teasing.

She pouts good-naturedly.

"You're just lucky that it isn't here because it would be my first choice."

"I know."

"You know all my secrets," she points out softly.

The air in the room suddenly gets heavy with emotion as our eyes meet.

"You know mine too," I reply softly, wanting to keep the connection.

She shakes her head gently.

"No I don't. You keep it all to yourself. So much of what you are thinking never reveals itself."

"That might be true with some people, but not with you. You know more about me than anyone," I point out.

"Except Theresa," she says, but without venom. It's almost as if she's resigned herself to being second best.

I feel the guilt invade once again.

"That's not true. My relationship with Theresa is friendship. That's not the way that I thought about you."

"Thought. Past tense."

"Marissa. You know that I can't …"

"I know. You say that she's just a friend and yet you're living with her. She shares your bed for Christ's sake. Don't you realize how that makes me feel?"

"I'm sorry. Sharing a bed is purely geography. There are no other spare beds in the house. Would you rather me sleep on the floor?"

"No. No," she shakes her head.

"I don't know how to do this," she admits forlornly.

"Me neither," I admit. I can't change my circumstances. I'm in too deep.

Marissa looks up at me.

"You may think that Theresa is only your friend, but she's much more than that. I'm the one that's only your friend," she says, hanging her head in resignation.

"That's not true," I state firmly and then correct myself, "Well, it's true, you are my friend, but you're more than that. You'll always be special to me."

"No," she says, shaking her head in denial. "The gap between us keeps getting wider, and you can't help but get closer to her. I'm sure she knows all your secrets."

"I don't think I have any," I point out.

"Yes, you do," she comments.

"I have no secrets from you," I assure her.

"Really?" she asks doubtfully.

"Really," I confirm.

"So if I was to ask you something that's been bugging me, then you'd answer me, truthfully?"

"Of course," I reply, wondering what's coming next.

"Did you …" she hesitates, a look of uncertainty flashes across her face.

I wait for her to continue.

When she doesn't, I debate whether to try to change the subject and move on, but this, whatever it is, has obviously been troubling her.

Better to get it over and done with.

"Did I what?" I ask.

She looks at me and then continues.

"When you … when you and Theresa … did it …"

Uh oh. Where was this going?

"Did you wear a condom?" she finished.

I looked at the sadness in her eyes and knew that I had to answer truthfully.

"Of course, I'm not stupid. I may have been thinking with my dick, but I still had a brain."

"So, the baby probably isn't yours," she says with a sigh, "But you'll stay with her anyway."

I nod.

"What about finishing school? How do you think that you'll be able to give this baby a decent life if you can't get a decent job? Have you thought about that?"

"Of course I've thought about it. But I don't know what else to do. I'm just doing the best that I can. For Theresa. For the baby. For you."

"Don't you ever add me to that list," she replies, getting angry, "There is no way that you being in Chino living with someone else can be good for me."

"But you can move on, find someone else," I suggest, even though I nearly choke on the words, the idea is so abhorrent.

She obviously picks up on it.

"Right. So the hunky pool boy that keeps asking me out … I should say sure, why not… let's do it, my boyfriend is never coming back."

"I don't see how I can," I admit, the reality of it washing over me. The thought of her 'doing it' with some other guy brings bile to my mouth. Knowing I couldn't stop it just makes it worse. If she's going to move on … and that's what I keep telling myself I want her to do … then that's going to happen at some point.

"Did you consider that Theresa may have deliberately come to Newport to get you to sleep with her? That maybe she already thought she might be pregnant and she decided that you'd be a better father than Eddie?"

"Theresa wouldn't do that to me."

"Are you sure? How do you know what she was up to? She may have suspected she was pregnant and been desperate," Marissa offered. "It's possible, right?"

I shook my head, not wanting to even consider that there was a chance that what she was suggesting could be true.

I was saved from replying by a knock at the door.

Dinner had arrived.

---

The pizza box is too big to fit on the small table in the room, so we make ourselves comfortable on the bed.

Settling back against the pillows, we turn on the TV, the pizza box placed strategically between us, acting as a no man's land.

Marissa picks Oceans 13 and we turn off the lights and watch in silence. Neither of us wanted to continue the previous conversation, so it was best to just leave it alone.

It was going nowhere…..nowhere good anyhow.

As the images flick across the room, and she seems immersed in the movie, I take the opportunity to watch her.

And once I'd started, I couldn't take my eyes off her.

She still takes my breath away.

I notice every little thing about her.

And when she moves, trying to get more comfortable, I watch like a thirsty man as her body comes closer to mine.

When the pizza is finished, she moves the box off the bed to have more room. I would swear that there's some magnetic attraction that keeps pulling me towards her.

I completely lose track of the movie as I fight against it.

It seems like the shortest movie ever and when the credits roll, Marissa glances over at me, "Do you want me to take you home now?"

I knew the answer should be yes, but I couldn't bring myself to say it.

Somehow I knew that these visits were going to have to stop.

They were only making things even more difficult for her.

She couldn't move on while I was still in her life.

But I wasn't ready to let go.

"Why don't we watch another movie? If we fall asleep, you can always drop me off in the morning," I suggest.

She didn't need to say anything. The smile on her face answered for her.


	10. Chapter 10

I wake early. It's habit now.

Theresa keeps telling me that it's good training for when the baby's born.

But the baby is not what I'm thinking about right now.

Somehow, during the night, Marissa has snuggled up to me. Her head is on my chest, my arm slung loosely around her.

It feels right.

Like she's meant to be there.

I don't know whether to be grateful for being able to cherish these few moments holding her before she woke, or feel sad that I didn't wake earlier so that I could have more of it.

We are both still fully clothed, but her halter top has shifted to one side giving me a delightful view of the swell of her breast.

I can't take my eyes away.

My body starts to react.

It's been so long since I've woken with morning wood that it feels almost foreign.

But I should know that waking with Marissa beside me would cause that.

Knowing that I can't let her wake up and realize the effect she's having on me, I slide quietly out of the bed and head for the shower.

A long cold one should do the trick.

Then I can get her to drop me back at Theresa's before work.

---

I'm standing under the stream of water, lost in my own daydreams when I feel her arms snake around me.

Turning swiftly, I try to distance myself in the small space.

"Marissa. Don't. We can't…."

"Why can't we?" she asks simply, standing there naked before me.

I tear my eyes away from her body, trying to focus on her face alone, "You know why."

"No I don't. You'll do it with your 'friend', but you won't do it with me? How does that work, Ryan? Did I ever mean anything to you?"

"Of course you did. You meant … mean, everything to me. I never wanted to hurt you. But doing this will fix nothing."

"It will fix me. You have no idea how jealous I get when I think about how Theresa knows you in ways that I never got to. Don't you understand that I want you? I want to make love to you. To know what it feels like to have you inside me. Don't worry. I know that you'll go back to Chino and Theresa. I'm under no misapprehensions about that. But you could at least give me this memory to hold on to."

She stands naked before me, the spray of the water streaming over her body, and I all I want to do is give in. To have her. To hold her. But I can't. I have no idea how I find the strength to resist.

"Don't you realize how bad my life is right now? The only thing that would make it worse would be if you got pregnant."

I watched her recoil as if I'd slapped her.

"Well, thanks. You're okay with taking care of a child that's probably someone else's, with a woman who is supposedly only your 'friend', and the only thing that could make your life worse would be for us to make a baby. That really tells me where I stand."

"No. It's not like that," I try to explain. How did things turn so quickly?

"Then what's it like Ryan? I'm sorry. I don't understand," she says, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel to cover herself.

I don't know how to get through to her.

"I just can't take anymore right now. I've screwed up enough lives. I don't want to screw up anymore. You still have a chance to escape all this. I can't."

"Fine," she says angrily. "Get dressed. I'll take you home."

I can't take that word anymore.

"It's not my home. A home is where people love. This room is more my home than Theresa's will ever be, because you're here…..with me."

She stares at me processing my words. Slowly she nods and I can almost see the anger deflate in her.

"Wherever we're together …. That feels like home," she says softly, all the fight from a moment ago now dissipated.

"I know," I agree softly. "For me, too. But I still can't do this. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to Theresa."

Marissa looks back at me, making sure to make eye contact for clarification.

"I'm sick of hearing about Theresa. Get your things together and we'll get out of here."

---

She drove me straight home. The drive was silent and tense.

I have no idea what she's thinking.

But there's nothing I can do.

She dropped me off at the usual spot a couple of blocks from Theresa's.

As I opened the door to get out she said, "For what it's worth, I wouldn't have ended up pregnant. Mom insisted that I go on the pill as soon as she heard about Theresa. You could have let your dick do the thinking this time without having to face the consequences."

I nod my head.

I would have loved to have taken her up on her offer.

But it still wouldn't have been right.

There's nothing I can say.

There's nothing I can offer her.

"Have a Happy Birthday tomorrow," I offer lamely through the window.

She glares at me, puts the car in drive, and floors the gas to get away.

---

I found out much later from Summer, that when she got home that day she accepted DJ's invitation to dinner.

They fucked for the first time on her birthday.

---

THE END

_A/N: I know that this won't be to everyone's liking but it really was the only possible outcome that I could see if I wanted to keep__ the ficlet in canon. It was a difficult task for me as I'm usually about the happily ever after but this was such a sorry time for Ryan and I wanted to try to imagine some of what he must have been going through._

_I know that it hasn't been very popular from the lack of reviews left for it, but I hope that at least some of you enjoyed it. _


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